42 er meet again, he would have left his impression on that sweet-scented Jesus by Leonardo. Even the humblest love has savagery in it. Ronald fastened his being on the moment when he would smite astonishment into l\1arco as one drIves in a nail Mondav evening. Two nights from this. For the present, the dummy had better be kept from Mrs. Palmer. This, like conveying the dummy through Camden Town, was not so easy as he expected. The same difficulty confront- ed him which had confronted Mr. Partridge's murderer,; in their hour of triumph. The wardrobe had not suffi- cien t depth to contain her The bed Was a divan; she could not go under the bed. There was no coal cellar at his disposal. Should he make a firm parcel of her and deposit her at the Left Lug- gage office at Paddington Station? In the end, it seemed hest to wrap her in brown paper and hoist her on top of the bookcase. It had a projecting Ed- wardian cornice and he knew bv ex- perience that no one dusted up there. Twice he started from his half sleep, thinking he heard rats devouring ..... . - .. ::.... .._. .;.. :. . " : ;;.:' .-: }:" , <<)"":" r-2 :.'" .. ...'... ... ......::. , -. j þ l;, .U $.- , , her Recollecting that Mrs. Palmer's cat slept on the landing, he opened his door, dnd later on he felt the cat walking on his bed and hollowing a place beside him. It was after that, somewhere in the timelessness of deep sleep, that he had the dream. Monday had come. Marco and the disciples and many other disciples had arrived and were dispersing themselves about the foom on a dreamlike assortment of chairs, stools, ,;ofas, and poppyhead pews. They were all glittering in fancy dress, and hè himself wa,; in a very fine dressing gown with Turkish slippers turning up at the toe. J essamv had brought his snake in a registered en- velope. It was dying, and shrunken to the size of a worm. Everyone was in high spirits; Marco played on a harp. But Ronald knew that something was wrong. His anguish ,;welled like a boil. He realIzed he had forgotten the dumlny. RisIng in the air, he took the parcel from the top of the bookcase and, hovering, unwrapped it, saying to himself, "If this were a dream I should find a mincing machine." But the dun1my was there, and gently descend- ing he put her in the middle of the ) \ (.. --... ' \ _"ø/. "Are you (a) contented, ( b) happy, (c) very happy, (d) wildly happy, (e) deliriously happy?" AVCiVST .2.2. 1 9 7 0 table, pressing the pedestal in to a wedding cake. Marco ';tared at her. His lips parted; color came in to his cheeks. Slowly, he handed the harp to Ronald. Then he began to pass his hands over her, and stroked her and took her into his arms and nuzzled his head against her bosom. His veiling ringlets spread over her truncated neck, her straight back. The little knob which served to 11ft her by rose above his caresses. Rearing his face from her green cloth bosom, he said, "This is the only woman I could love." The disciples began to clap. The clapping swelled into thunder, turned into the cat purring. It pressed itself more close- Iv into his warmth, yawned, and was asleep again. I T had been a rather upsetting dream and he was glad it could all be put down to the cat; even so, It result- ed in his feeling out oÍ temper wIth the dummy and suspecting he had made a fool of himself Besides, what would he do with her afterward? She could not stay permanently on top of the bookcase, oustIng the rolls of cartridge paper and tracing paper he kept there. He would have to explaIn her to Mrs. Palmer. And what explanation could he make? That he was housing her for a friend? On Monday evening, when he had completed his secret preparations, he fetched her down, un- wrapped her, and placed her on the table as a centerpiece to the hottles and sausage rolls and pickled herrings and figs and doughnuts. Standing back to judge the effect, he forgot his doubts and his upsetting dream. Her stately bearing, her Edwardian con- tours, her assumption of the glories that were Greece, her ludicrous re- spectability could not fail to astonish and delight. After the party was over, he would give her to Marco. He sat down to wait, jumping up at intervals to alter this or improve that. It was certainly a good stroke to put the bowl of figs in front of her- an offering to a goddess. Their smolder of purple and obsidian green, their ripened curves ending in a little knob, corroborated her to perfection. I t was past one in the morning. He wound his watch and went on waiting. On this occasion he - was not impatient, for he was not fretting in the constraint of anxiety. All would go well. Wher- ever Marco was, al1 must go well. His bell rang. He opened the street door on a single figure. It was Stew- , " c I ." art some a ong In. Stewart came in. He could not be